


Far Away from Home

by rosewiththorns



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Detroit Red Wings, Fondling, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Imagination, Kissing, Loneliness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewiththorns/pseuds/rosewiththorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergei helps a homesick Nick overcome his loneliness. Set during Nick’s rookie year. Written in honor of Nick and Sergei’s induction to the Hockey Hall of Fame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Away from Home

Far Away from Home

When Sergei emerged from the hotel bathroom with his waist wrapped in a towel and his head enveloped in a nimbus of steam, he saw his roommate, Nick Lidstrom, curled on his bed with his arms resting on his knees, his posture more hunched than Sergei had ever seen it throughout training camp or the early stretch of the season, because Nick might have been a rookie but he had poise. 

“My music bothering you?” Sergei asked, not that he planned to change his concert in the shower routine to suit his roommate, since his motto had always been to sing loud and proud, not soft and humble or even accurate. After all, who cared about tone or key when volume was all that mattered in raising the spirit? “I been told my singing like two cats fighting in an alley.” 

“I didn’t even hear you.” Nick sounded almost depressed, although it was hard to tell with Swedes. Everyone claimed that Russians were enigmatic, but in Sergei’s experience, it was really the Swedes who were the big mysteries. Russians would announce whatever their mood was—happy or sad; calm or angry—while Swedes maintained the same pleasantly blank expression whether overcome with delight or fury. 

“Then what wrong with you?” frowned Sergei, his forehead furrowing as he sat down on the foot of Nick’s bed. 

“Nothing really.” Nick gave a shrug that Sergei suspected was evasive. 

“Nothing really,” repeated Sergei with a snort and an eye roll. “In other words, something but you afraid it pathetic so you not tell me.” 

“I’m just homesick.” Nick’s tone—always quiet—was barely more than a whisper. “I’ve never been this far away from my family and friends for this long. I know I can pick up a phone and call them basically whenever I want, but it’s not the same as talking to them face-to-face, and when I hear their voices from an ocean apart, it makes me feel more separated from them.” 

Sergei sighed as he remembered how difficult life had been after he had defected from the Soviet team and joined the Red Wings. As much as it had scared him shitless, defecting had been the easy part. The tough part was getting used to a land of plenty and freedom—where he could eat any food he wished whenever the whim struck him and where he could speak his mind without having to glance over his shoulder to see which government agent might be lurking to listen in—while knowing that everyone he had really cared about was trapped in a country where they could be imprisoned or killed under the vaguest pretext and where it was a frequent occurrence to wait on line for hours at a grocery store counter only to informed when it was finally your turn that the person in front of you had bought the last morsels of anything edible. If it had been a challenge to leave behind a place of misery and oppression because it had been his home even if it wasn’t a very good one, Sergei could only imagine how heart-breaking it would be to part from a place like Sweden, which everyone described as peaceful, comfortable, and free. 

“It hard to leave behind only place you ever know.” Sergei nodded. “It like leaving behind a piece of yourself you not sure you ever pick up again.” 

“Exactly.” Nick’s gaze locked on the silver-framed picture of a beautiful, blonde-haired and blue-eyed young lady that he kept on his nightstand. “It’s like leaving a part of you behind.” 

Something about the wistful look in Nick’s eyes made Sergei wave a palm at the photo and inquire, “That your girl?” 

“Annika.” Nick pronounced her name reverently, as if she were his sun: his source of life and brightness. A smile cracked his face while he went on, “We’ve been together since we were teenagers, except we aren’t together now. I mean, we’re still a couple but we aren’t together any more.” 

“She beautiful.” Sergei whistled in approval. “I see why you miss her so much.” 

“I can’t bear not to think about her.” Nick reached out to stroke what Sergei knew was the disappointingly cold and motionless frame. “Thinking about her hurts, though, because I can’t touch her.” 

“I can help you with that.” Slipping an arm around Nick’s shoulder, Sergei recalled how he and the other members of the Soviet National Team had mastered the art of pleasuring one another with mouths, tongues, and fingers and ignoring the fact that the name moaned in ecstasy was invariably a woman’s (that of the beloved girlfriend or wife that they couldn’t see for eleven months of the year because the government kept them imprisoned in barracks). His time with the National team had also been a crash course in being stimulated and imagining that it was the gentle hands of a girl instead of palms calloused from stick-handling or the soft lips of a lady rather than a teammate’s chapped mouth after too much practice in a frigid arena. He had even learned that anal sex with another male wasn’t that different from anal sex with a female. It hadn’t been a knowledge that he had asked for, but it had made him feel less lonely back in those bleak barracks, and maybe it would take away Nick’s feeling of aloneness right now. 

“Do you know how to make people materialize instantly from halfway around the world?” Nick arched an eyebrow. “That’s a useful power. I wish you’d revealed it before now.” 

“I not a wizard.” Sergei smirked. “Just a pervert, but a pervert what you need right now, because I pretend to be Annika for you.” 

“You must be drunk.” Nick’s spine straightened. “You can’t replace Annika.” 

“You never know for certain if you not let me try.” Wearing his most wheedling grin, Sergei nudged his naked chest against Nick’s arm. 

“I’m not going to cheat on Annika.” Nick twisted away from Sergei as if Sergei’s bare flesh had burned him. 

“Not cheating if you thinking of her.” Smiling as seductively as he could manage and snaking Nick’s hand up to brush against his nipples since nipples were one of those body parts so similar in men and women, Sergei echoed the aphorism that had circulated around the barracks every night along with the whispered assertion that none of them were faggots because they weren’t attracted to each other and were just using one another as surrogate women when their lovers weren’t around. Cheating, like being a faggot, was a matter of intent, not action, in the barracks. 

“How do I think of her—“ Nick’s fingers were rubbing, pinching, and pulling on Sergei’s nipples in almost unconscious movements, and Sergei noticed that Nick was posing questions, not arguments—“when I’m with you?” 

“Look at her picture.” Sergei tilted his head back to kiss Nick’s lips, which were still quirked in a question mark. “Imagine that anything I do to you, she did, and that anything you do to me, you doing to her. Got it?” 

“Yeah.” Nick’s lips tickled across Sergei’s mouth then along his neck and down his chest, while Nick’s fingers crawled like spiders along Sergei’s arms and legs. 

Nick’s touch was so perfect—light but firm, accommodating yet somehow demanding—that Sergei felt hot all over and wasn’t surprised to see a tent erecting in his towel. When Nick drew him close against his chest, pressing him against a pistol jamming out of the shorts Nick wore as pajamas, he was gratified to feel that Nick’s dick was as stiff as his. 

Palms sliding behind him to cup Nick’s cock and balls, Sergei remarked, “You hard.” 

When Nick’s only response was to push his tongue through Sergei’s lips to rub against his, Sergei deftly disengaged his mouth from Nick’s, tore off his towel, and, sprawled across the king-size bed with his ass pointed as temptingly as he could make it in the air, purring like a cat, “I help you with that.” 

“How?” Nick breathed in the shell of his ear, laying down beside Sergei, and caressing Sergei’s backside gingerly with fingers that caused Sergei to fight the urge to squirm. 

“Answer right in front of you.” Sergei ground his butt against Nick’s hands, yearning for Nick to be inside him now, brushing against his prostate until they both came in an explosion of relief and bliss. “Take me up my ass. Must have done same thing with Annika.” 

“That’s none of your business.” Nick gave an almost reproachful squeeze to each of Sergei’s cheeks and then split them. Blowing on Sergei’s exposed anus with a gentle gust, Nick asked in a more delicate tone, “Are you positive you want to do this?” 

The wind flowing into his hole only frustrated him because it wasn’t any part of Nick, so Sergei grunted, “Of course I positive. Don’t tease me, Nick. Isn’t nice or fair.” 

“Sorry.” Not sounding as repentant as Sergei would’ve preferred, Nick tapped the fingers of his right hand against Sergei’s mouth, ordering, “Lick me.” 

As Sergei lapped at Nick’s fingers, tasting soap and the saltiness of skin, he heard more than saw Nick fumbling on the nightstand with his free hand. He didn’t have much time to wonder what Nick was up to with his left hand because his right had drifted down to Sergei’s anus again, and he couldn’t contain a gasp as Nick’s fingers ran along the side of his hole. 

“I’ll be gentle,” Nick assured him, and, before Sergei could reply, Nick had pushed a finger as tenderly as possible inside his anus and started to wiggle it around. At first, Sergei could feel his body tightening around Nick’s invading digit in revolt, but as Nick remained inside, stroking at the deepest and most sensitive parts of him, he began to relax. Spasms rocked him as a second and third finger followed the first, jerking around inside him and causing him to feel like a marionette controlled by a master puppeteer. “This won’t hurt. I promise.” 

As Nick removed his fingers from Sergei, prompting Sergei to whimper at the sudden emptiness, he returned the tub of lotion that Sergei realized he must have been rubbing along his dick to serve as lube to the nightstand. 

“Hurry,” panted Sergei, thrusting his butt closer to Nick. 

“Patience.” Maddeningly, Nick’s penis circled Sergei’s hole but made no effort to break inside him. “Got to be prepared.” 

“I prepared.” A scowling Sergei was in no mood to be lectured when all he wanted and needed was to be fucked. “You prepared. Just do it like Nike commercial say.” 

“Can’t rush a good thing.” Nick chuckled but apparently couldn’t deny himself any longer, because he pushed into Sergei. 

Everything felt too tight inside Sergei for a moment until Nick’s cock found his prostate and began to rub against it. Then all was warmth and softness and aching pleasure from top to toe, because while Nick’s dick hadn’t seemed large enough to fill every part of Sergei, it obviously was. 

Entwined with Nick, he was in a place where time had no meaning, and he had no idea whether it was a minute or an hour later, when he felt the hot squirt of Nick’s semen swimming inside him, and then found himself collapsing against the blankets in a fit of ecstasy as he came. 

Neither of them said anything as Nick withdrew from Sergei. Abruptly aware of his nakedness as it occurred to him that maybe Nick hadn’t enjoyed his pretending to be Annika as much as he had, he snatched up his towel and was about to enfold himself in it when Nick clutched his arm, saying, “Sergei.” 

It was the first time that evening Nick had referred to Sergei by name, and he couldn’t prevent a flush from blazing in his ears and cheeks. “Yes?” 

“Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?” Nick nuzzled against the nape of Sergei’s neck. “It’s lonely here.” 

Spooning against Nick and nibbling at his earlobe, Sergei swore, “I’ll stay with you all night. Then you won’t have to wake up alone.”


End file.
